


3 Points to My Heart

by xxELF21xx



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), Super Sons (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Basketball, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Basketball, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, M/M, i know close to nothing about bball and it shows, testing out a new writing style
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-01-24 11:43:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18570778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxELF21xx/pseuds/xxELF21xx
Summary: Jonathan wasn't one for sports, he'll be quick to admit. But that doesn't explain why he's in the basketball club.





	3 Points to My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> the supersons server was talking abt something basketball related and i had to do it.
> 
>  
> 
> am i still welcome in the fandom???

Jonathan Kent was never one for sports, he'll admit it right now. 

He isn't overly fond of how people crowd around each other, and how  _loud_ and touchy they are. He never liked the ugly, unblended colours of the various uniforms, and he doesn't really understand how they're supposed to help differentiate the teams if someone was, say, colourblind. There are too many rules, too many variations of the same game, and too many  _names._

His dad wasn't a huge sports head either, but he did, in one occasion, try to get Jon interested in baseball. Jon could barely remember any of the names involved before giving up entirely when he swung the bat straight into Jason's kneecaps. He's sorry for that, he swears! If it weren't for the relations between the Waynes and the Kents, he could be sure that Jason would've wrung him out to dry in the middle of the winter frost. 

(Not that Jason was a  _bad_ person, it's just his notorious pranks may have struck fear in young Jon.)

Sports was too tiring, it took up so much time and commitment. Sports was something his brain  _refused_ to understand. 

But that doesn't explain why he's here, in the basketball team.

 _i think there's something wrong with my bain_ [read, 14:06] 

 _Should I be worried?_ [sent, 14:06]

_maybe???_

_i sined up for basketball_

_i made a mistake_ [sent, 14:07]

He doesn't receive a text back from Jason for a while, which made hs growing anxiety and fear skyrocket into the heavens. Dear God, maybe he  _did_ make a mistake in doing this. Maybe he shouldn't have done it at all. Some part of him is wailing, cringing at is stupidity and recklessness for joining a sport he had absolutely no clue about. 

What did possess him to join the basketballers?

_[Incoming Call -- Jason TODDbot]_

His phone rings across the court, it's a  stupidly emo song he's come to associate Jason with. It's a title he can't ever remember, sung by a band he couldn't recall, but it fits the man perfectly. Startled, he squeaks, drawing looks from seniors and fellow newbies alike. He slinks away from the crowd, a red dot amidst the greys and whites, fumbling to receive the call.

'What?!' He hisses, almost vehemently. Jason's muffled laughter greets him kindly, jovial and warm (unlike with someone else). Jon has half a mind to continue his little screeching, but is halted by a cough from an upperclassman. 

Dark green eyes study his slowly pinking face, an eyebrow raised in question. 'You're.... ' He trails off, trying to place a name to the face. Jon barely has the time to choke out his name before the Devil himself exclaims, 'Jonathan Kent!' 

A triumphant smile slides onto the Prince's face, proud. 'What are you doing out here? Try-outs are starting.' There's an edge of teasing, an almost-banter, but Jon's fear of upperclassmen has him clamouring to stutter out a shaky reply. The boy in front of him, #13, frowns. 'Well, okay, see you.'

Jason, who'd been uncharacteristically quiet, suddenly whispers: 'well, good luck with that one.'

 

He fails the try-outs, obviously.

But he's fast, insanely so, and has a penchant for picking up team morale. Most of the seniors are fond of him, from his petulant arguments to his ability for inhaling large amounts of food.

'There's no way you can fit all that inside you,' Colin Wilkes, #12, comments. He watches Jon scarf down his fifth plate of dinner, a little concerned. Jon shakes his head, allowing the already messy curls to become a monster of its own, 'I'll be okay!' He chirps, collecting everyone's plates before running off to the kitchens. Their captain, Tim Drake, #3, stares at him with a perplexed look. 

He senses the tap on his shoulder before he ever feels it. 

'Yes?' He asks, turning to stare at the captain expectantly. Tim's jaw falls slack, wonder filling out in blank eyes. Jon feels squirmish, uncomfortable under such scrutiny. He wants to ask again, but is interrupted when Tim takes the plates off his hands, cupping calloused-ridden palms with his own (slightly smaller) ones. 

Tim's stance suddenly straightens, 'you.... could you be our score-keeper?'

 

That's how he becomes #0.

 

Jason doesn't stop making fun of him for having basketball in his student portfolio. 

'This is the best thing I've heard of in my life,' he cackles, zooming into the words Gotham University _Basketball_ several times on his ratty Samsung Ace III, tears filling his eyes. 

Jon whines, butting his head into Jason's own, 'stop it!' He yells, making a grab for the stupid phone. Why did his parents think that Jason was a good guardian for him? God, he hates this. 'If you keep making fun of me, I'm gonna tell Mom,' he pouts. 

Almost immediately, Jason pauses, looking at him with wide (innocent) eyes. 'You would never!' The asshole sounded so  _hurt_ and  _betrayed_ it almost made Jon feel bad. 

There's a silent staring contest between them, a battle of wills, which Jon ultimately loses as his eye begins to twitch. Jason smirks, reaching over to ruffle his hair, 'better luck next time, Jonny.' He then rises and makes his way towards the kitchen, shouting something about dinner. 

The moment his back is turned, Jon sticks out his tongue. 

A crisp, new jersey sits in his bag, unopened and untouched.  _'Even scorekeepers need one,'_ Tim had said,  _'besides, you look like someone who likes to collect stuff.'_  

 

Jon sees the Demon Prince during practice, shooting 3-pointers and jumping way too high for his own liking. 

He's best friends with Colin, Jon assumes, seeing the two of them exchanging friendly words across the court. There's something strangely odd about how #13 acts around others -- only with Colin is he this nice and sunny. Jon's heard stories of how scary the other boy could get on and off the court with people he didn't know, and has seen #13 almost punch a baseballer's nose for something the other sportsman had said.

#13's name is Damian. 

He really shouldn't care about names, he sighs, it's not as if remembering names will help you be a better scorekeeper. 

Jon remembers Damian's name anyways. 

 

Tim Drake is an eccentric leader, he decides. The boy, top 3 in his cohort for every test and every practical, is ridiculously hard working and incredibly attentive. Tim Drake probably knows why he joined the club in the first place. 

Jon, for a lack of better terms, is rather afraid of the captain. 

During a little internal match, Jon gets caught up in a heated argument between Tim and Kon (the older brother he never hears much about, sadly). Being in the crossfire is terrible, but he dares not  _breathe_ in fear of getting scolded. So, like a fool, he edges awkwardly around them like any timid freshman and prays neither of them realises his presence.

But, of course, they do.

'Jon!' Tim nearly yells, fatigue and anger rearing its head at him. He yelps, whipping around to face his captain so fast he ends up hitting the scoreboard. Anyone else spectating winces, while Jon furiously apologises. 

Kon stares at him, eyes sharp and cutting, as if trying to figure out why they resemble each other. 

'Could you leave go get something for me? I left it in the clubrooms,' Tim tosses him a key card, gaudily decorated with numerous stickers that had worn with time. 'It's the green folder we use for official documents. I can't remember where I left it, but I need it fast.' 

Jon nods, squirming under two varying stares. 'Got it,' he mumbles, keeping his head low as he runs out. 

He hears Kon mumble something as the gym doors slam shut, 'who is that kid? He looks like-- ' 

 

Their clubroom was one of the smallest in the whole block, largely due to the AV club taking out the neighbouring three clubrooms for storage. And half of theirs for a giant filing cabinet of various documents and invoices. 

When he enters, Damian is deep in conversation with an unknown girl; judging from her club jacket, he guesses she belonged to the AV club. 

They both nod at him, with Damian giving him a small (cute) smile. He nods back, cheeks flushing slightly. 

'Uh,' he waves his hand, trying to grab their attention, 'have you seen a green folder?' 

The girl, whose head was resting on a pile of papers, shakes her head. Damian reaches over, rummaging through an unruly stack of wires and snacks, producing said folder. 'Did Drake have a fight with Kent again?' 

Unsure of what to say, he nods. Damian sighs, standing up and saluting the girl goodbye. 'I'll go with you, Jonathan. There's something I need to discuss with Drake. See you later, Brown.'

The girl smiles brightly, waving her hand at both of them. 'Don't be late for dinner!' She shouts, just as Damian decides to stick his tongue at her. 

 

'Are you familiar with Connor Kent?' Jon blurts, fiddling with his shirt. 

Damian takes a glance at him, uninterested. 'Not really?' He sounds out, a little confused, 'all I know is that he and Drake have been friends for quite some time; they're nearly inseparable. Kent rarely talks about his home life, though Drake probably has a clue or two about what's happening.' They turn a corner, bumping into a few football kids, before he starts talking again. 

'They're probably dating, I think.' Jon nearly trips over his own feet at that statement, jaw falling in disbelief. 'Is it really that shocking?' Damian lifts an eyebrow, 'I bet they're having a lover's tiff right now. Their fights are  _legendary,'_ sarcasm drips from his tone, 'if it weren't about their relationship, this school would probably be a warzone.'

Jon doesn't really know what to do with this information. He's been living in Gotham since elementary school, when his mom was pursuing a criminal case and his dad was too busy with another investigative report to take proper care of both children. As a result, his parents decided to leave him in the care of one Jason Todd, a close family friend who had a penchant for running away from home. Kon was probably just two years older than him when he moved, he vividly remembers his older brother piggybacking him home after having a run-in with bullies. 

But as time progresses, memories fade. Kon's memory of him probably faded, or forgotten. While he saw his parents regularly, Kon was often left behind in Metropolis due to school schedule clashes. The last time he saw his brother, he was probably in middle school....

'Are you alright, Jonathan?' Damian's voice snaps him out of his stupor, and he realises that they're now outside the gym once again. Tim and Kon are still fighting, though they don't sound as loud as before -- he's not sure if that's a good or bad thing -- and Damian was waiting for him to enter. 

'I'm sorry!' He apologises, hurrying to step inside once again. Damian waves him off, taking the file from his hands, 'I'll go pass this to him. See you around, little scorekeeper.' There's a light tease in his voice, one that makes Jon's brain shut down completely. 

 

He blatantly ignores the knowing smirk on Tim's face when the next game starts with Damian being in the centre. There's no way Tim Drake knows.

 

Kon approaches him the next day, similarly shaded eyes downcast and upset. He's standing next to Jon's locker, four rows down from his, a box overflowing with envelopes in his arms. 

As soon as Jon steps into the aisle, Kon jumps up in action; approaching him with a set determination. 

'Hey, lil' bro,' Kon greets warmly, ruffling his hair with giant hands and tears in his eyes. 'I don't know if you remember me, I mean, we haven't seen each other since you were in middle school.... ' He trails off, kicking at the floor. Jon gulps, suddenly overcome with anguish and fatigue. 

'I missed you,' he croaks, closing the gap between them with a fierce hug, all the pent up stress in his body suddenly rushing out in the form of ugly sobbing. Kon drops the box, its lid clattering onto the floor loudly, sweeping him up with a giant hug in return. 'Oh,  _Jon,'_ he murmurs, voice thick, 'I have so much to tell you.' 

 

Jason notices the improvement in his mood within seconds of him stepping into the apartment. 

'Did anything good happen today?' Jason asks, offering him a cup of ice cream to help with the summer heat. Jon slumps into the couch, one arm curling around the box while the other holds the cup high up in the air. He nods sleepily, slurring his explanations as Jason fusses over him. 

At the end of the one-sided conversation -- Jason was always a good listener -- his phone buzzes. Jason laughs, joking about how busy he's gotten, gently reminding him to shower sooner and rest, before retreating into the study. 

_So_

_I heard that you had a little crush on Wayne_ [sent, 17:09]

_wdym_

_there's nth going on btw me and damian??_

_he doesnt even know who i am_

_wait_

_did tim tell u that_ [read, 17:14]

_Hmmm, maybe_

_Damian's got a little thing for you, I swear_

_He wouldn't stop bugging me after you left._ [sent, 17:15]

_Oh, also, are you still living w Jason_

_I mean, dumb qn ofc you are_

_How is he?_ [sent, 17:17]

_i feel like he became a lot more parent-ish than when i first met him_

_which sucks?? kind of_

_he's so responsible now_

_but it's a good weird._ [read, 17:20]

 _Cool, B would def like to hear that. He's still kinda not talking to his family._ [sent, 17:20]

 _what_ [read, 17:21]

_Oh shit_

_You didn't know???_ [sent, 17:21]

 _???????????_ [read, 17:21]

_Jason ran away a lot, but he always came back. B did smth hella dumb, which made Jason run to Mom n Dad._

_Then, he just never came back._

_And, uh, yea._

_He took you in when Mom and you moved to Gotham bc he owed us._

_He was like, 17??? When he took you in_ [sent, 17:25]

_When Mom wanted to move back bc she finally turned in her report and got approved, you got so attached to Jason you didn't wanna go back._

_And that was like, a year after you guys moved._ [sent, 17:26]

_wtf_

_holy_

_i thought he was_

_way older than me???_

_are u saying that he's like 4 years older than me_

_HE'S NOT SOME OLD MAN????????_ [read, 17:30]

_Lil bro.... omg_

_Jason studied Lit and Life Sci, minors in Theatre._

_He went to GothamU._

_He was on the archery and shooting team_ [sent, 17:31]

[jason todd archery.png]

[jason todd shooting.png]

 _He held onto the most accurate aim for shooting and lost to Roy Harper for archery._ [sent, 17:31]

_im learnign so much tdy_

_holuy_ [read, 17:40]

 _Will it shock you more to learn that he's Damian and Tim's older bro_ [sent, 17:40]

 

He falls off the couch, phone skidding against the marble tiles.  _What?_ There's no way those three are related. Bruce Wayne has 2 sons, right? Dick Grayson and Jason Todd. Did he... did he adopt more while Jon remained clueless? 

'What's going on?' Jason's glasses slide down his face slightly, alarm in his posture. 'Jon?' 

He stares at his guardian for a moment, trying to make sense of what Kon just said. 

'You're related to Tim and Damian?' He almost shouts, arms flailing wildly, panic seeping into frenzy. 'Does that I made a fool of myself by ranting to you about Damian everyday after school? Oh my God,  _did you tell him.'_ The dread piles up when Jason doesn't reply, but it was probably just the poor man trying to figure out what Jon'd said amidst the weird noises. 

Slowly, Jason explains, 'yea, I'm their missing older brother. I don't go home at all, so all family news come from Al; and I'm pretty sure I have a few sisters and another brother besides those three. Don't really know them that well, though. I lived with Damian and his mom for a bit before I ran to Metropolis.'

Jon felt like crawling into a hole and dying, maybe he should eat dirt. Yea, he definitely should eat dirt.

'It's not like I talk to the murder all that much, anyway.' Jason flicks his forehead, 'but Damian's been sending me constant messages about the team's very cute and easily flustered scorekeeper; which is you.'

Jon wants to die, so bad. His face probably looked like an active induction cooker. 

Jason's phone chimes. 'Huh, he says he wants your number.' 

 

Jon stares the various clubs in front of him. 

Most of them are either the Arts or sports, and he doesn't particularly feel like joining the Special Interest clubs. Sighing, he eyes the different booths in the Clubs' Fiesta, trying to get to the other side of campus without getting crushed by the throngs of people moving back and forth. 

Jason had gotten him a recommendation for GothamU and UCLA, by some miracle, but he'd decided to go to GothamU because leaving Gotham -- and by extension, Metropolis -- makes him uneasy. Jason has never mentioned GothamU's tradition (and unofficial rule) of joining a club to fully be integrated into the student programme. 

 _Maybe I'll go for the Library Club,_ he wonders. Compared to any other clubs, it had the least amount of commitments and all they do is recommend books and help the school's library staff once in a while. Besides, there were certain benefits in this club that could help him with his academic papers in the future. 

'Oh, sorry!' His hand gets caught in someone else's, causing him to turn beet red in embarrassment as he tries to untangle the loose threads of his sweater from the stranger's jacket zipper. He doesn't dare look up, fumbling with his task. 

A light laugh, so soft one could barely hear it, reaches his ears. His ears start burning, and he mumbles even more apologies. 

'It's okay, really,' the owner of the jacket smiles, 'besides, it's my fault for bumping into you; sorry about that.' Amused, the stranger asks, 'are you a freshman?' He nods, glancing up to see the (probably) most handsome face in the world, a lean body, and a jersey #13.  _Gotham University BASKETBALL_ is spelt in white on the black jacket.

The boy looks at him kindly, finally untangling his sweater, 'why not try basketball?' 

Jon can't say no, not when this boy makes his heart jump with how he smiles and his sincerity. 

**Author's Note:**

> now, read this from the last paragraph as the start. 
> 
> come find me on [tumblr!](https://hunkjasontodd.tumblr.com/)


End file.
